


Arriving at Ostagar

by neriasuranas



Series: The Neria Surana Chronicles [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anxiety, Cutesy, F/M, Fluff, before shit hits the fan at Ostagar, listen Alistair understands anxiety alright he has a worry token, mild panic attacks, nervous blushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:28:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neriasuranas/pseuds/neriasuranas
Summary: As Neria arrives at Ostagar, she questions her place with the Grey Wardens. What's a Circle mage doing with the fabled Wardens, anyways? But as she slowly meets the newest Warden, she decides that maybe it's not about finding her place, but making one for herself. Whatever that means. One-shot.[Mostly canon compliant. Meet post-Circle Neria as she struggles with anxiety, and panic attacks!]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!
> 
> This one-shot (probably) is mostly going to introduce Neria pre-Battle of Denerim, to give readers a bit of a deeper understanding of what she was like before her disappearance and reappearance at Skyhold ten years later.

“Duncan.”

The older Warden looked up from staring intently into the fire, eyes widening slightly as if she had startled him awake. Her cheeks filled with color, blending into the light from their campfire. “Yes, Neria?” he said, straightening up his back a little bit.

Neria took a deep breath. “I think you made a mistake conscripting me,” she said softly, voice shaking just slightly. He said nothing, merely rose a single eyebrow in question and when it became apparent he would wait for her to elaborate, the elf hung her head in shame. “I can hardly keep up with you, and this is just ordinary travel! I-I can’t fight, I’m not strong or battle hardened or, or much good for anything!” Once she had started, everything began to spill out, all the insecurities that had taken root in her heart over the years. “And I’m an elf. Not just an elf, but an elven _mage_.”

“My best friend is an elven Circle mage,” replied Duncan after a moment of silence. Neria looked up, blue eyes brimming with tears. “An exceptionally talented one, at that. There are few I would entrust with my life more so than her.” His beard twitched as he smiled at her. “Before we left, did you not fight your way through the basement to steal your friends’ phylactery?”

Neria nodded, opening her mouth to argue something but Duncan rose his hand to quiet her. “You are a loyal friend. And a powerful enough mage to fight the Templar’s defenses,” he said. “You will make an excellent Grey Warden, I’m sure.”

There was a note of finality to his voice and Neria fell silent. Her mind was still buzzing with insecurities, threatening to overtake her. She reached out and grabbed the ground they were sitting on, letting her hands sink into the soft earth a little. She had been outside for physical fitness, but this was different. There were no walls around them, just a lining of trees that parted for the dirt road. The sky was endless, filled with uncountable stars and clouds. It made her doubts a little easier, helped the panic dissipate, to look around her and realize that there was so much _life_ outside the Circle.

“Will I ever be returned to the Circle?” she asked after a moment, eyes still tracing patterns in the stars. “Even though I am a Grey Warden?”

“No,” Duncan said firmly. “You will be a Grey Warden first, a mage second. Once you have officially joined our ranks, no Chantry member can drag you back.”

The thought was more comforting than Neria realized. A smile broke across her freckled face, and she sighed in relief. Duncan offered her another smile, and then rose to his feet. “Get some rest,” he told her. “We still have a few more days of travel.”

By the time they arrived at Ostagar, however, her fears were only deepened. Her legs and stomach burned from all the walking, and she was almost certain her face and neck were sunburnt from such long exposure. With Duncan watching and laughing quietly, she had used the small amount of healing magic she knew to fix her red skin back to the usual pale, muttering something about not wanting to stand out too much.

When they arrived, the very last thing she had expected to meet first was King Cailan himself. Her jaw dropped as the King himself greeted her, told her that he was pleased to meet her. “Might I know your name?” he asked pleasantly, all smiles.

“I-I am Neria,” she said breathlessly, unable to believe what was happening. “Your Majesty.” Her cheeks flooded with color, and she could feel her hands start trembling as everyone looked between her and the King. If Cailan noticed, he was kind enough to pretend otherwise.

“Pleased to meet you! The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help them,” he told her happily. She nodded dumbly, watching as his eyes glanced down to her robes. “I understand you hail from the Circle of Magi. I trust you have some spells to help us in the coming battle?”

It was an innocent enough question, warranted by the situation at hand. Neria stuttered a bit, and then finally choked out, “I’m only recently out of my apprenticeship.” They spoke for a moment longer before the King was called away to continue negotiations, a fact he told her with an eye-roll and a wink before departing. She listened without interruption as Duncan shared his thoughts, and then directed her to find a Warden named Alistair to continue her training.

“Feel free to explore some, but please don’t dally too much. If at all possible, I would like to hold the ceremony this evening.”

She did as he commanded, though Neria couldn’t help but stop every so often to meet with others. There was a Mabari in a pen that needed medicine, and when the kennel master informed her of what herbs to grab, she nodded, promising she would do her best. She met with Jory and Daveth, pretended like their disappointment upon seeing the newest recruit to be an elven mage didn’t make her stomach drop. She stopped to chat with Wynne for a moment before following her direction to find where Alistair was.

He turned to her with the same sort of crooked smile that he had been so calmly flashing the mage that had been arguing with him. “You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together,” he said with the same level of calmness as before.

“I know what you mean.” The words slipped out of her before she realized it, and her cheeks wasted no time darkening once more.

Alistair’s grin widened. “It’s like a party! We could all stand in a circle and hold hands. That would give the darkspawn something to think about, eh?” He laughed, a sound that sent warmth spiraling down her spine. “Wait, we haven’t met, have we? I don’t suppose you happen to be another mage?”

Neria blinked and glanced down at her blue robes. “I, uh, yes. I am a mage,” she admitted, clearing her throat. It felt strange to say it like that, to inform people that she was mage. There had never been any need at the Circle; you were either a mage, a Templar, or part of the Chantry. There was no mistaking one from the other, not even the newcomers.

“Really? You don’t look like a mage,” he commented, looking her over. She glanced down as well, wondering what was wrong with her robes, and when she looked back up, his cheeks had gone pink as he realized how ridiculous his statement had sounded. Of course she looked like a mage. “Uh…that is…” he stammered, looking away. “I mean, uh, how interesting.” He cleared his throat, looking off to the distance for a second before turning his attention back to her. “Wait, I do know you. You’re Duncan’s new recruit, from the Circle of Magi. I should have recognized you right away. I apologize.”

Neria grinned a little. “You must be Alistair,” she commented with a nod. She had meant it to be friendly, but his eyes widened.

“Did Duncan mention me? Nothing bad, I hope,” he said quickly, cheeks still holding their pink tone. Alistair fiddled with something in his pocket for a second before smiling again. “As the junior member of the Order, I’ll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining.”

Junior member? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to send them out with one of the older members? “Pleased to meet you,” the elf told him. She meant it, too. “I’m Neria.”

Alistair laughed a little. “Right, that was the name.” He paused for a second, expression turning thoughtful. “You know, it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?”

“You want more women in the Wardens, do you?”

His reaction was immediate; cheeks flushed, words stumbled. Neria felt bad instantly, meaning it as good natured teasing as her own cheeks darkened again. “Would that be so terrible? Not that I’m some drooling lecher or anything,” he added quickly, his already tanned cheeks quite dark by now. “Please stop looking at me like that.” Neria grinned a little, and he returned the smile with a deep breath. “So, I’m curious. Have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?”

Neria tilted her head to the side a little, looking the man over curiously. He didn’t appear to be that much older than she was, and he was the junior Warden. “Have you?”

Alistair nodded, expression souring a little. “When I fought my first one, I wasn’t prepared for how monstrous it was,” he told her, voice serious now. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to encountering another.” He shuddered a little and then exhaled sharply. “Anyhow, whenever you’re ready, let’s head back to Duncan. I imagine he’s eager to get things started.”

She nodded, turning to leave before pausing. “That argument I saw, what was that about?”

“What, with the mage?” Alistair asked. “The Circle is here at the king’s request and the Chantry doesn’t like that one bit. They just _love_ letting mages know how unwelcome they are.”

Neria felt her heart drop, body immediately tensing him a little. Of course the Chantry was here, following the mage’s as if they were nothing more than animals to be herded up and locked away. She looked away, willing herself to calm down before the panic attack truly settled in. “Which puts me in a bit of an awkward position. I was once a Templar.”

Her head snapped back up, blue eyes wide. He was a Templar? The thought that this sarcastic and witty man was one of the people that had watched her every move had never crossed her mind – he seemed much too carefree to be a _Templar._ “You were a mage-hunter?” she whispered, thoughts turning to Anders. To Cullen and Jowan and everyone else that she had left behind.

Alistair sighed a little, and she wondered if perhaps she had offended him in some way. “Not that that’s all Templars do, but yes. The Chantry raised me until Duncan recruited me six months ago,” he told her. His expression soured again, and she thought he might snap at her about how mage’s should be locked away. “I’m sure the revered mother meant it as an insult – sending me as her messenger – and the mage picked right up on that.” He sighed a little, picked at whatever was in his pocket again. “I never would have agreed to deliver it, but Duncan says we’re all to cooperate and get along. Apparently, they didn’t get the same speech.”

She wanted to tell him that, no, of course they didn’t. No one preached to the Chantry, they preached to you and you listened without complaint. Neria felt her chest constrict a little, the thought of seeing their judgmental eyes watching her the entire time she was down here less than comforting, and she forced her eyes to look up at the sky, to trace the lines between stars until her breathing slowed and the shaking of her hands lessened. When her eyes fell back down to Alistair, he was watching her curiously. There was no hint of annoyance, however, and she wondered briefly if perhaps he understood the need to calm yourself down.

“What about the other recruits?”

It was the first thing that came to mind, and she wished she had been able to think of something a bit more interesting, but that was it. “Daveth and Ser Jory are here in the camp. Have you met them?” He started walking then, gesturing that she follow alongside him. They spoke quietly on their way back into camp, and then she fell quiet as the others joined them to find Duncan.

As they were given their assignment, Neria let herself think back to the Circle. To Jowan, her best friend in the world, turning to blood magic and running away to leave her for whatever punishment the templar’s gave her. His betrayal stung like nothing else, a fresh wound that fractured her heart and kept her smile small. She missed him, much as she hated that. She missed Daylen, who had disappeared six months ago without warning. She missed Anders, who was still a week shy of being freed from solitary confinement and wouldn’t know what happened to any of his friends until then.

She felt the world start to spin, and she nearly succumbed to the panic attack, but a warm hand appeared on her shoulder, stopping everything. “You alright?” Alistair asked softly, brown eyes concerned. She looked up at him with wide eyes, wondering if he could see the cracks that had formed in her eyes with how close he had gotten.

Neria blinked once, the feeling of compression and suffocation dissipating as the warmth from his hand spread across her body. “I – yes,” she finally managed, nodding. “Yes, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he told her, something like relief flooding his expression as he pulled away. “We’re going to be facing darkspawn soon. I’d hate for you to go into this not prepared and wind up injured or worse.”

He was so genuine, it made her heart stutter. The elf nodded, feeling a smile form. “I’ll do my best,” she promised. Alistair shot her the same crooked grin before moving away, informing the others that they’d be off now.

As they all walked out of the large camp, Neria realized two things: one, no one before that moment had ever been so successful in staving off one of her panic attacks, not even her closest friends; and two, her hands had not shaken at all when he stood near her. She watched his back, watched as he turned to Daveth to make some joke or another before glancing back to her. He held her gaze for a moment before offering a reassuring smile and looking away, both their faces dark with blush.

Whatever it meant, Neria decided, it would certainly make her position as a Grey Warden interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it! I plan on writing a lot about Neria, and while I'll try to keep everything in chronological order, I can't promise that's how they'll be posted.
> 
> Either way, I'll make sure to keep everything organized in the collections tab.
> 
> If you'd like to see more of Neria, please read my other fic, [Reunited](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7961929/chapters/18209410)


End file.
